


and i will hold on to you

by jbhmalum



Series: new year!sos [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Morning After, New Year's Fluff, Song: New Year's Day (Taylor Swift), the serenity writing this brought me is like. yeah., they're so in love, this fic is just a ball of warmth to me, whatever that really means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhmalum/pseuds/jbhmalum
Summary: Right there, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Michael's hoodies and flipping through a bunch of polaroids, the soft glow of the candles he’d bought Michael for Christmas illuminating the right side of his face, is Calum.-It's the begining of the year, and maybe the start of something else, too.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: new year!sos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084394
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	and i will hold on to you

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so, this is the second fic! they go together, but you can definitely read this on its own without missing anything! the other one is barely referenced.
> 
> i listened to new year's day WAY too many times writing this but honestly i love this song so i don't even care. also it's completely inspired by the song, so. yeah. if you would like to listen to it to read this then be my guest it will only make this better (in my very unprofessional opinion)  
> i really hope you enjoy it cause i love LOVE it and i love that i am ending/starting the year with it.  
> i will also love you endlessly if you give me feedback on this!
> 
> not to be too sappy, but thanks to everyone who has read my fics this year, left kudos, commented, bookmared anything. I am just starting out as a writer and this has been a real fun experience sharing all of this with you all!! i wish you all a happy new year!! <3

Michael wakes up to a pounding head and an empty bed.

The first thing isn’t too surprising. Michael has always been a lightweight; almost ten years of experience in drinking has apparently not changed that. He’s usually better at knowing when to stop before it can get to the headache stage, but he guesses he was too busy celebrating the end of the year to really pay attention. Or the beginning of the new one, he supposes. At least he doesn’t feel like throwing up, so he must have been careful enough. Or, it’s possible someone else was being careful for him, his brain supplies.

The second thing, he muses, shouldn’t be surprising, either. He’s been waking up alone for most of his life, and the past two years have been no different. He’s used to the right side of the bed being cold except for when he’s decided that he needed to occupy the entire thing in the middle of the night. He’s used to his own breathing being the only sound filling the room. He’s used to his arms being wrapped around his pillow instead of a warm body.

And yet, it feels like something is missing. The air in the room smells slightly different than it usually does in the morning; something comforting and warm. Familiar though he can’t place it. The light peeking out from the hallway behind the half closed door reveals tousled sheets next to him. It’s a little unsettling, and if Michael were a bit more awake he’d have a lot of questions, but as it is he just lets out a loud yawn, stretching the remnants of sleep out of his numb limbs.

The bed is comfortable, and the last thing he wants to do is to get up, but both his empty stomach and his bladder are screaming at him to. With a disgruntled noise he sits up, lets out a dramatic sigh, rubs his bleary eyes and cracks his stiff jaw before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He lets out another groan as his feet touch the floor, the cold shooting up his body and spreading through his veins, making him freeze on the spot for a split second before he shakes himself and gets up properly.

Nothing seems to be spinning. That’s certainly good news.

Once he’s put on clean boxers and a t-shirt that smells as familiar as the room does but that he’s pretty sure isn’t his, he wobbles towards the bathroom, relieving himself and splashing water on his pasty face before taking some aspirin. He’ll need a shower as soon as he’s eaten, but for now what’s looking back at him from the other side of the mirror isn’t scaring him too bad. He looks rested, if a little tired, and the hair sticking to his forehead isn’t worse than after a twenty minute set on stage, so he guesses it’s acceptable for now.

When he finally shuffles into the kitchen, he's met with two things he wasn’t expecting. The open curtains tell him it's still rather dark outside, the clock on the far wall indicating a shocking 7a.m., which is way earlier than he would have thought — or liked — on the first of January. It's suddenly clearer why he felt so reluctant to get up.

All that is immediately overtaken by the other thing he notices. Because right there, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Michael's hoodies and flipping through a bunch of polaroids, the soft glow of the candles he’d bought Michael for Christmas illuminating the right side of his face, is Calum. Calum rubbing his eyes and yawning and smiling adoringly at the picture in his hand.

There’s music playing faintly from his phone on the counter, but Michael doesn’t recognize the song. It doesn’t feel like Calum cares too much about it, anyway.

He looks up when Michael lets out a silent _"oh"_ , as suddenly his head clears, and it all makes sense, what was missing. It’s always Calum.

"Hey Mike," Calum says softly, the warmest smile on his face.

"Hey Cal," Michael says back, voice just as quiet. There’s no one in the house to risk waking up, but this feels like one of those moments that needs to remain silent to be treasured. “What are you doing here this early?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Calum retorts, though he does no such thing.

He pats the empty spot next to him, and Michael takes the few steps he needs before sitting down. The floor is a bit cold on his naked thighs, but it doesn't matter when Calum's presence is here to warm his heart up immediately. 

"I didn't mean to snoop around," Calum says, picking up a polaroid of himself and Luke from their first show in England. "But I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you up so I just looked into your drawers in the living room and found this stash of memories. I couldn't help but have a look."

Michael hums. "What if I had some dark secret to hide? What then?"

“What, like your teenage crush? Please, we all know it was me.”

“Touché,” Michael snorts.

There’s silence for a second, filled only with the sound of the fridge turning on and Calum’s phone switching to another song, before Calum goes on. "Do you?"

“Do I what?”

“Have secrets to hide.”

"Not from you, no."

The twinkle in Calum's eyes reminds Michael of a clear sky in the summer back home, with the stars looking down on him, their peaceful energy enough to give him the courage to face the night.

"Well, the only thing you're gonna see on those pictures is the four of us looking like a bunch of idiot kids," Michael says with a chuckle.

"You're right about that," Calum goes on, picking up another polaroid. "Look at that, you look like you're twelve here."

"Thanks, mister I-look-like-a-third-grader."

"Yeah, fair enough." Calum lets out a laugh, the sound lighting up Michael's entire being. "God we look dumb as fuck. Who let us out of the house looking like that?"

Yeah, Michael has no clue how that happened either.

"At least we all look dumb," Michael reasons. "Solidarity and all that."

"You look the dumbest though," Calum teases. “With your spiked hair that’s– is that that time you tried dying it on your own?”

"Hey! You’re the… dumbest," Michael grumbles, but Calum is smiling fondly at the picture, so Michael drops it, focuses on the next picture Calum shows him.

“I wish Luke and Ashton had been here last night,” Calum sighs, his mouth turning into a sad pout. “You think Luke is okay?”

Michael nods, patting Calum’s knee. “I’m sure he is.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Ashton would have said something. Hey, don’t be sad, I’m sure everything is okay.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Cal.”

“It’s true. Couldn’t ever be with you next to me,” Calum whispers, a small smile creeping back up on his face. Michael just smiles back, dropping his head on Calum’s shoulder.

An arm loops around his waist then, strong and safe and tucking him closer into Calum’s side. Michael takes a deep breath, inhaling Calum’s scent against his nose; he smells good. He smells warm and spicy mixed up with Michael’s own scent, and Michael gets that this shouldn't be appealing. But that's the smell he woke up to, and that he wants to wake up to forever. If Calum will let him. He probably will. It’ll always be he and Calum forever, no matter what.

They look through the other polaroids, recounting the events that led to them or going on tangents about something else, and Michael was right. It's all pictures from years ago, of the band backstage or at a stupid random party, doing piggyback races or eating ice-cream in Sydney. It’s been a long time since Michael had looked at these. It's nostalgic, but not in a way that makes him ache for the past. Here, looking at those ridiculous pictures with the love of his life half naked pressed up against him, with his unkempt curls that Michael ran his fingers through last night, the plump lips that left hot traces on Michael's skin and kissed his own lips numb, the warm body that kept him close as they explored each other, Michael doesn't long for the past.

Michael is excited for what the future has to bring, more than he’s ever been before.

"Hey Cal," Michael says, interrupting Calum recounting the time Ashton had nicely bought them all ice-cream only for Michael to drop his on himself. And on Calum’s shoes.

Calum looks down hastily, his eyes glistening. "Hm?" 

"Hi," Michael repeats intelligibly.

"You said that." Calum's smile is something to treasure, Michael muses. It comes out often enough, though it’s usually quite shy and reserved, not as soft and bright as it is right now. He would like to frame it, hang it up on the wall of his room. Look at it before he falls asleep and have it be the first thing he sees in the morning.

Maybe he won’t need it, if he just gets to have the real thing.

Michael lets out a slight smile of his own. He removes his face from Caum’s shoulder, one of his hands coming up to thread through the curls falling on Calum's forehead. The look in Calum’s eyes softens, if possible. Michael wants to lose himself in it.

"You know I love you, right?" he asks instead, voice barely a breath of sound.

“Of course I know,” Calum whispers, titling Michael’s head up slightly with his free hand. “Some days it’s the only thing I know.”

It shouldn't anymore, but it always surprises Michael every time he gets reminded of how in tune he and Calum are.

"I love you too," Calum breathes out eventually.

Michael smiles, his eyes flicking down to Calum's lips before coming back up to Calum's eyes. They seem darker, now that they’re so close, making everything more intense, but not so much that Michael doesn't feel the love more than he does anything else. "Then why aren't you kissing me?" 

Calum chuckles. "I believe I kissed you last night, didn't I? Did way more than that."

“Last time isn’t right now.”

“True.”

“Kiss me now, then,” Michael whines. “You’re not gonna make me beg, are you?”

“Well, maybe I like hearing the confirmation that you want me to kiss you.”

"Calum," Michael starts complaining, but then Calum's thumb is sliding over to Michael's lower lip, tracing the skin softly, almost reverently. The intimacy of it causes Michael's breath to hitch in his chest, his own hand flying to Calum's wrist, holding. Keeping close.

“Come on,” Michael whines when it feels like he’s been waiting for too long, hoping his pout will make Calum cave. “Kiss me.”

“Why?” Calum teases, though he shuffles closer instantly.

“You know why, stop it.”

“Yeah, I do.” Calum’s eyes search his for a moment, focused, before he shakes his head in wonder. “How can I know so much of you, and yet I have so many things left to discover? It doesn’t feel like I can know any more of you.”

Before Michael can think of something to say that would be worth Calum’s words, his lips are engulfed in warm ones, the familiarity of their touch taking him by surprise before he remembers how they both started the year; entangled, making one in every way possible, like they were always meant to. Calum had tasted like Michael’s idea of heaven then, and he still does now. Michael is glad he’s a little more lucid to appreciate it properly.

He can feel himself sinking into it, into Calum and this kiss and everything he’s silently promising Michael with it. _You and me forevermore_ , the song from Calum’s phone whispers in the background as Michael loops his arms around Calum’s neck to tug him closer, echoing what neither of them are saying.

Kissing isn’t usually something Michael would be too fond of, but at this moment it’s the one thing he wants to be doing for the rest of his life, especially if it means he gets to keep Calum close. If it means he can have this as a physical reminder that he and Calum are intertwined in all the ways that matter.

It feels like it’s about to turn into something more, like Michael is going to have to get back up and take Calum back to the dark of his room, when suddenly the sound of Michael’s rumbling stomach breaks the moment. Calum chuckles against Michael’s mouth before leaning back, and Michael pouts, tries to follow Calum’s lips, but in vain.

Calum shakes his head. “I think you need to eat, love.”

“I– don’t _‘love’_ me, that’s rude.”

“Well, then.” A peck to Michael’s lips. _“Michael.”_ Another peck. “You need to eat.”

Calum leans back again before Michael has time to kiss him back, removing Michael’s arms from his neck.

Michael pouts– again. “But I want to kiss you.”

“How about you kiss me while I make you tea and french toast? How does that sound?”

Calum really knows the way to his heart, it seems.

“Okay _fine_ ,” Michael sighs dramatically, following Calum up begrudgingly as his stomach makes another starving sound.

As Calum makes him breakfast as well as he can, laughing softly while Michael drapes himself over him and covers his face in kisses, Michael feels his whole being glow with happiness. He’s in love, he thinks to himself, and that’s what he’s going to ensure to build this year upon, Calum by his side every step of the way.

And all the years he gets to live after that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> comments/kudos are always appreciated :)  
> also i'm on [tumblr](https://michaelownsmyheart.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!


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